Just a Drink
by snitchavis
Summary: Harry had hoped life would settle down after the war. What he got, however, was more attention than he'd ever had before. Trying to keep out of the public gaze, an unexpected peer finds a way back into Harry's life, taking it on twists and turns he never saw coming.
1. Chapter 1

It had started out as just another normal day. Harry had the day off from the Ministry and decided that a trip to the Leaky Cauldron was necessary. He hadn't visited since the war had ended nearly three years ago, and something just felt right about going today.

Once inside he was welcomed by many familiar, and just as many unfamiliar, faces and handshakes. He still received thanks for defeating the Dark Lord to the point where all he could muster in response was an exhausted smile and head nod.

Even with the war over and Voldemort gone, Harry still didn't feel right. He often felt like he was walking through his life in a fog, from a distance. He was doing everything right. He became an Auror and fought alongside his best mate, he and Ginny were to be married come this fall; life was good. So why did it all feel so mechanical? As if his brain were simply telling his body what to do without consulting Harry first.

"Mr. Potter, can I get you anything? This meal is free, on me!" The waiter was nearly bouncing out of his too-pointed shoes at the prospect of getting Harry some food.

That was another thing. Harry didn't want all the fame. Sure it had been nice for a while, and no doubt had he relished it in his time at Hogwarts as the Chosen One, but now all he wanted was a carefree, simple life. None of this 'getting off for free' business. He would gladly accept his place in society as just another average wizard.

"Just a Firewhiskey and Treacle Tart please. And I wouldn't mind a copy of the Daily Prophet."

Harry reached into his pocket and placed twelve Sickles on the table.

The waiter shook his head, "Please, sir. I insist!" and scuttled away to the kitchen.

So Harry would have to sneak the money into his pocket somehow. Fair enough.

Moments later a steaming Treacle Tart and glass of Firewhiskey were set in front of him, along with the newest edition of the Daily Prophet. Harry still didn't believe a word of the rubbish that was posted, but he liked to keep up on worldly affairs.

To his disappointment, the front cover was a picture of him and Ron returning from a mission to find some Death Eater conspirators in China. It hadn't been a particularly hard mission, just long and grueling. Death Eaters everywhere were in hiding, and it was especially difficult to sort out the ones that claimed to have been under the _Imperius Curse_ or doing it of their own free will.

Harry took a small sip of his Firewhiskey, still concentrated on the paper, when a sudden thump across from him made him jump and nearly spill the whole thing down his front.

The thump, as it happens, was another glass of Firewhiskey ungracefully being set on his very table. And to Harry's surprise (and disgust), the wizard now pulling up the chair and taking a seat was irritatingly familiar.

It was Draco Malfoy.

"Fancy seeing you here, Potter." It wasn't meant to be nasty, there was no hint of distaste in his voice, but Harry wouldn't go off his guard so easily.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Please, don't make this harder than it already is." There was the venom. His pale face had curled into a snarl that Harry recognized all too well. But both men stayed seated, not one of them ready to flee or pull the other up in a muggle-style brawl that would surely get them both kicked out of the pub. Well, perhaps not Harry, but certainly Draco.

Harry waited for him to continue.

Draco smoothed a stray blonde hair back to the side with an exaggerated sigh and a quick gulp of whiskey. He suddenly looked on edge, if not nervous. Harry shifted, trying to hide how uncomfortable he was suddenly becoming at the odd behavior Draco was displaying.

"You remember my mother?" he started.

Oh yes, Harry remembered her well. That very woman had saved his life by proclaiming him dead to the Dark Lord. That very woman gave him the chance he needed to defeat Voldemort.

He only nodded.

Draco started up again. "Well, after the war and everything, she became obsessed with the idea of me making amends." Another gulp of whiskey. "And the real kicker is that she wanted me to talk to you the most. I told her it was a bad idea, but mother's just won't take no for an answer." His eyes darted to Harry, his cheeks momentarily flushed with embarrassment before returning to smooth white. His skin was like polished marble with an irritating lack of flaws. The only color on his face was the pink of his lips and circling grey of his eyes. If Harry didn't have such a distaste for him, he might call him handsome.

Might.

"So here we sit, three years later with you trying to make amends because your mummy told you to." Harry set the Prophet down and crossed his arms. Draco's face had suddenly turned to stone, showing no emotion.

"No. Here we sit three years later because it wasn't until now that I realized I should make amends of my own accord, you git."

So somewhere buried deep inside Malfoy was a conscience. Huh.

"Why did you do it?" Harry asked. He glanced down at Draco's left arm where a black tattoo was just peeking out of his sleeve. There was no need to explain. Draco's eyes had followed his and he knew exactly what he meant.

And if Harry had seen right, he could swear there were bruises and cuts over the tattoo, as if someone had tried to remove the mark.

Draco gulped and looked down into his cup now, the stone washing away from his face to be replaced by a furrowed brow and his lips pressed tightly together in thought.

"I hadn't wanted to start with that one, but I suppose it would have come up sooner or later." Another drink. He was stalling. Harry had never seen him so uncomfortable. It was both odd and, strangely, inviting. Any other day Harry might have a problem sitting here with a Malfoy just to have a chat, but the uncertainty in Draco's voice and body language made Harry want to stay long enough to hear what he had to say.

Draco quickly threw up a muffling spell to keep their conversation private.

"I had no choice, Potter." He still wouldn't make eye contact.

"You could have gone to Dumbledore. He would have helped you."

* * *

 **A/N: This is an update from the original first version. I'm making small changes as I go because when I started this fic I sort of rushed through it and didn't do as much editing as I should have. Follows/Favorites/Reviews are always appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

Harry had to admit, he had played this conversation in his mind over and over, waiting until the day he would finally have it, and this argument was one he could have bet money Draco would make. Had no choice? Dumbledore would have protected them. They could have been safe from Voldemort without having to aid in his plans.

"You don't get it, do you Potter?" Now he looked directly at Harry, his grey eyes glossed over. "My family is much bigger than just me, my mum and dad. And what of my friends? You didn't see what he did to the first people to try to turn against him. They were all slaughtered. He ordered every other Death Eater to—" He cut his words short, his face now white as snow. He paused a moment to regain his composure. "Never mind. The point is, they're my family. You do what you have to do for family."

Another drink. Draco crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair and avoiding direct eye contact with Harry.

Those last words caught Harry off guard. He remembered the courtyard at Hogwarts that day, a terrified, paler than the moon boy escaping hand in hand with his mother and father from the blood bath. It had never occurred to Harry that family might be important to Draco. On the surface it certainly didn't seem to be so. In fact, Draco didn't seem to care much about anything but his own life and reputation.

But if the war had taught Harry anything, it was that people are not always what they seem or put on to be.

The same bubbly waiter popped by their table, releasing some of the tension between the two men. This time, however, the waiter was less perky, with his body and gaze turned only to face Harry.

"Anything else I can do for you, sir?" His eyes were big and questioning, as if trying to search Harry's expression for any signs of trouble.

"No, we're fine thank you."

The man nodded, turned slowly to glare at the blonde across from Harry, and prodded off to the bar. Harry quickly waved his hand over the 12 sickles which still sat on the table. They flopped slightly then lifted from the wood and whizzed over to fall lightly into the man's back pocket.

Draco's eyes followed the waiter as he said, "I called for him three times and finally had to go up to the bar before getting a drink. And even now," he crinkled his nose up at his own Firewhiskey, "I'm pretty sure they put something foul in here."

"Not exactly the world's finest sparkling champagne, eh Malfoy?"

Draco's jaw clenched ever so slightly, his expression now cold as ice.

"You know Potter, you're lucky."

 _Lucky?_ Harry chuckled. "How so?" Lucky to have lost his parents? Lucky to have been a horcrux to a Dark Lord for 16 years of his life? Lucky to have lived in an abusive home while Draco skipped through mansion halls with a house elf servant at his every beck and call?

No, luck seemed to stay as far from Harry as it possibly could.

"You were born on the right side of all this." Draco searched Harry's features, which were now slightly puzzled as he tried to make sense of the entire conversation. "My father was a Death Eater my entire life. Do you think I wanted any of it? Look Potter, I'm not trying to justify what I did. It was wrong. But you should understand this: I didn't have a choice." Harry started to protest but Draco raised a hand to stop him. "My family was wrong, this is true. But they are still my family. And despite everything they were doing, I had to trust them to do what was best for me and for us. I had to trust them because that was all I knew, and they were all I had."

Draco stood and straightened his coat.

"That it then?" Harry waved an arm to take down the muffling charm. He was trying his best to keep a cool presence, but his mind was scattered. He wanted to get home and talk to Ginny, and thought maybe Hermione might have some thoughts on this 'enlightened' Draco. It was too much for him to make sense of alone.

"No, Potter. I have a feeling we'll be running into each other again soon." Draco extended a hand. Harry looked at it then up at Draco. He searched those cold grey eyes for any sign of mockery or condescendence, but all he found was a wall. It took until then for Harry to realize just how many walls Draco Malfoy put up between himself and the world.

He grasped the blonde's hand firmly, met by an equally firm and icy grasp, and they shook once. Harry watched the man exit the pub, a guarded confidence and almost grace about him—much different than when he'd first seen an 11 year old boy slink up to the Sorting Hat all those years ago.

Perhaps Harry had misjudged Draco Malfoy.

But then perhaps he had judged him perfectly.

* * *

 **A/N: Okay, be honest... How many of you knew Draco would make that argument? Harry certainly did. Just a reminder - this is an update from the original version. Chapters one and two don't have very many changes to them, but chapters three and four have changed a bit. Same basic plot, just more detail. Hope you're enjoying it!**


	3. Chapter 3

"Ginny?" Harry stepped through the door of their little home in Godric's Hollow.

When he and Ginny were ready to have a home together, they thought what better place to do so than the Potter's home. It was bittersweet, Harry had to admit, but there was also a sense of comfort living in the home his parents once had.

"In here, Harry!" he heard her call from the kitchen. He entered to see the table sprawled with color palettes, pictures, notebooks full of neatly written ideas, and several intricately designed cards. Ginny was seated and shuffling through the mess, her brows slightly pulled together in distress.

"Where have you been? Oh never mind, I'm glad you're home. The wedding is only months away and we still haven't picked out invitations. What do you think of this one?" She held up a lavender card, a purple ribbon wrapping the length of it with the words 'You're invited' in beautiful script on the front.

"It looks nice." He set his bag down on a chair and went to the fridge for some water.

Harry knew the wedding was important to Ginny, and of course he wanted to put every effort into showing her he cared too, but the events of earlier that day still had him wracking his brain for answers. What could Draco really have wanted? Perhaps it was his plan all along to get inside Harry's mind and play tricks. It would drive him mad not knowing what Draco was up to. And what had he meant, 'we'll be running into each other again soon'?

"Ginny?" He cut her off. She had been midway through a crisis of decoration when she stopped short and puzzled at him.

"What is it?"

"Well, I went to the Leaky Cauldron today and… And I ran into Malfoy. He approached me, really, and apparently wanted to, I don't know, apologize or something. It was all very strange."

Ginny blinked momentarily shocked then rose and went to Harry. "First off, are you alright?" The concern was clear in her voice.

"I-I dunno. I'm not really sure what to make of it," he said.

"What did he say?"

Harry thought a moment. He had said so much, Harry wasn't really sure where to start.

"At first he said he wanted to make amends," he began, "then he started in on not having a choice in any of it. It was odd. He wasn't his normal self. He was cold and angry and sad."

"A war will do that to people." Ginny lifted a consoling hand to Harry's cheek. She was so warm, her touch so soft. He couldn't have imagined getting through any of it without her. As soft as she was, she was strong, and had been a constant rock for Harry to lean on during tough times. "He did have a choice though. Dumbledore offered to help them, didn't he?"

"That's exactly what I said, but he seemed to think being terrified of Voldemort was a good enough excuse." There was the part about his family, though…

"Well, he's a coward, so that doesn't surprise me." She pressed her lips to his lightly. "I wouldn't worry yourself with it. The war is over so none of that matters anymore." She smiled and his heart fluttered.

"You're right." He kissed her once more and let her return to fussing over wedding plans. Every now and then he would give his input, a yes or no, that's fine, or a simple head nod, but he was still distracted. Not wanting to worry Ginny, he put on his best show of being focused on everything she was saying, but until he spoke to Hermione, he wasn't sure he'd be able to put his unsettled mind to rest on the subject.

Later that night, after Ginny had gone to sleep, Harry crept out to the living room. This wasn't unusual—he often had nightmares and would go into the living room so as not to disrupt her sleep. She would pretend not to have noticed, but he could tell from the dark circles under her eyes the nights which he had kept her awake.

Harry picked up the phone and dialed Hermione's number. She and Ron lived in a nice little flat just down the street from the Leaky Cauldron in London. Despite Ron's protests, Hermione insisted they have a home phone and spent several hours and phone call attempts teaching Ron about the contraption.

Three rings later and the phone was answered by a groggy Ron. "Hullo?"

"Ron, it's Harry," whispered Harry in a quiet voice.

"Bloody hell, Harry. It's nearly 3 in the morning, what you callin' for?" There was some shuffling in the background and mumbling which Harry knew to be Hermione. "Yeah, it's Harry. I dunno. Harry? What you callin' for?"

"Ron, I need to speak with Hermione."

Ron groaned then more shuffling.

"Hello? Harry?"

"Hermione, can you meet me somewhere?" Harry didn't want to have this conversation over the phone. It was too private, and he didn't want to risk waking Ginny up with how much whispering it would take to explain the situation.

"Right now? Harry it's 3am. We've both got work in the morning, can't it wait till then?" She sounded slightly disgruntled.

"I really need to talk now. Hermione, please."

There was a moment of silence, then, "Alright. Meet me in front of the theater in five minutes." She hung up the phone.

Harry snuck back into his and Ginny's room to grab his coat and throw on some pants. He bent to place a light kiss on his sleeping fiancée's forehead before slipping silently through the front door and down the street. Wand in hand, he flicked it once muttering 'Apparate' under his breath and was whisked away into the cold, breezy night.

* * *

 **A/N: If you've made it this far into reading, thank you! My original plan was to write a chapter a day, but I'm just too hard on myself with writing and needed more time to critique and edit. I hope to keep up on it this time around! Reviews and follows fuel my writing! P.S. Aren't Harry and Ginny cute?**


	4. Chapter 4

Harry was greeted by a burning intake of crisp night air. He stood under the cover canopy of an old, stonewashed building which he knew to be an old-fashioned theater. He and Hermione had taken Ron here for his first movie theater experience. He had been dumbfounded by the technology, scoffing, "Blimey. Muggles have figured out how to get pictures that can move to be that big, but can't get tiny pictures to fit on a newspaper? They really are pretty thick, aren't they?" Harry smiled at the memory.

"Harry."

The voice came from behind him. He turned to see Hermione, her hair in a frizzy bun and still sporting pink, fluffy slippers on her feet. She didn't look particularly happy to be awake so early.

"Thank you Hermione, really. I wouldn't have called if it wasn't important," Harry said apologetically.

Hermione waved him off and linked her arm with his and they walked. "What's on your mind?" she asked.

"Malfoy approached me at the Leaky Cauldron yesterday." He was straightforward. There was no need for small details with Hermione. She was brilliant as it was and picked up on things rather quickly.

"Was he hostile?"

"No. The opposite actually. He wanted to 'make amends' as he put it." Harry furrowed his brow still trying to decide if Draco had truly meant his words.

"Harry," she started tentatively, pausing a moment before continuing. "Draco applied for a position at the Ministry a few days ago."

He looked at her more confused than ever. Draco had applied at the Ministry? But what for?

They had stopped walking and Harry said, "Do you think this facilitates Auror search? His family _was_ aligned with the Death Eaters."

She only shook her head. "They've been searched Harry, remember? That investigation lasted weeks."

"Then what could he be up to, Hermione?"

She looked off to the ground, narrowing her eyes in a way she does when she's thinking extremely hard about something. "What exactly did he say to you?"

"He started off talking about his mother, then said he had no choice, that they had to follow Voldemort. Then he went on about his family being important to him and the only thing he knew was that way."

 _You do what you have to do for family._

"It was strange coming from him," Harry finished.

Hermione nodded. "I'm sure it was. I dunno, Harry. Maybe he's finally taking responsibility for all he's done."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes I'm sure that's exactly it." They stood again in momentary silence. "You don't think he'll be hired for the Ministry, do you?"

"I'm not sure. With the Death Eater stuff sorted out, and him having been underage during the time of it all, I'm not sure the Ministry has anything real to hold against him other than his family name. So he very well might be."

"We can't let that happen."

Hermione's voice became soft. "I don't think we have much of a say in it."

The wind picked up, ruffling their clothes and seeming to move straight through them in cold gusts.

Malfoy at the Ministry. Harry wasn't sure how he would feel about seeing his smug face every day at work, he already made enough of a mess in Harry's nightmares. Not to mention, Hermione hadn't mentioned…

"Hermione, which department did he apply for?" He searched her face but she wouldn't meet his gaze.

"Well, that's technically classified… I'm not even really supposed to know, I just happened upon the information when in a meeting…" Hermione said, clearly dodging the question.

"Don't tell me he's out for Auror." Harry's head ached at the thought.

Hermione finally looked up. She would neither confirm nor deny, but her silence was enough. Harry groaned.

"His position isn't official yet, still in the works. And think of it this way, if he really is up to something, you'll be able to witness it firsthand." She tried desperately to cheer him up, but to no prevail. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said. "I wish there was something we could do."

Harry nodded. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

. . .

Harry had trouble rolling out of bed the next morning. He hadn't slept well the rest of the night, tossing and turning trying to fight the feeling of impending doom now resting in his stomach. The smell of bacon and eggs gave him enough strength to trudge from the bedroom into the kitchen.

"Good morning," Ginny said without looking up from the newest edition of The Quibbler.

"Morning," Harry said scooping some breakfast onto a plate. He took a seat next to Ginny and picked at his food.

"So," she started, "where did you head off to last night?"

Harry winced. "I'm sorry, I hadn't meant to wake you. I met with Hermione for a second opinion."

"About the Draco thing?"

"Yes, and apparently he applied for a job at the Ministry. As an Auror, no less." Harry shoved his food away, no longer hungry.

Ginny's nose crinkled. "Surely he won't get it. I mean there's no way they would hire him, right?"

"I'd love to think so but I'm not sure."

Ginny placed her hand on top of his reassuringly. "It'll be okay, either way. We've been through worse."

He hoped she was right.

* * *

 **A/N: So, what do you think Draco is up to? I'd love to hear your theories! As always, reviews and follows are much appreciated. It helps keep me going! Reminder - this is an updated version of the original. I'm editing as I go. Weeeee!**


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